Last Time I Checked, I Was Not Actually Araki
by Threepwillow
Summary: Just a bunch of drabbles, most of which might as well be AU. Mostly part 5, some 3 and maybe others later. All ratings and a handful of pairings.
1. drugs are bad, mmkay

The dance played on. Trish's mauve dress swished with each small movement she made, adding a rustling undertone to the music that Mista decided he very much liked, especially when the song changed into something with sort of a tango beat. With no one else looking - Narancia drowning in the punch bowl, Abbacchio and Bucciarati dancing themselves, and Giorno and Fugo sitting by the wall trying desperately to avoid having to dance - he felt confident enough to swing Trish into a dip, lowering her halfway to the floor.

When they swung back up, she was looking straight into his eyes, with a sort of mystefied gaze. His heart jumped, just a little, at the wideness of her eyes.

"I wouldn't hold that rose in your teeth, if I were you," she said, deadpan. "Giorno made it from an ashtray."


	2. cee ay ell ell eye en  gee now

He'd saved up for a week, at least, because they were _so_ going to overcharge for the bonus edition. He'd scoped out places that were actually going to sell it, because it was hard to get the latest issues of foreign publications. He'd even marked the date of its release on his calendar.

Narancia was getting the Special Release Red and Black Boy GO!, damnit.

The line was kind of long in the comic store, but he and Fugo made it to the front and bought the comic, holding it up to the sky outside in silent reverie.

And were then blindsided by a scrawny kid with ugly hair and an uglier sweater, who snatched it from Narancia's unexpecting hands.

Narancia cried out in rage and was about to summon Aerosmith, but Fugo grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him. "He's just a kid. This place is too crowded for stand combat, you can't risk it." Narancia sighed, defeated.

The kid kept running, clinging awkwardly to the comic book. "Hello? Boss?"


	3. take that, rewind it back

Abbacchio arced into the touch of his lover, reveling in the fingers against his skin, the only person who could ever do things like this to him. He was worried, because his door was left slightly open, but he almost didn't care if anyone saw this - it was too exquisite.

A particularly wonderful caress and he groaned, throwing back his head, panting heavily, eyes squeezed shut. _Oh, Bruno,_ he thought, _oh god…_

He was ready to throttle Mista when the younger boy leaned in and interrupted.

"Oh, _gross_, Abbacchio!" he cried. "Don't use your stand like _that_! Bucciarati's only going to be gone for two more days."


	4. this is chapter FIVE, I swear

Mista hadn't left his room all afternoon and Bucciarati was confused. It was very unlike Mista to fall into a funk such as this. He asked Narancia, who didn't know - although he realized afterward that he probably should have assumed as much. But Fugo and Abbacchio didn't know either. With a bemused sigh, he lay down to go to sleep, only to hear Mista through their shared wall. Sniffling to himself.

_Crying?_ Bucciarati wondered. He didn't think he'd ever heard Mista cry in the years they'd been working together. He made up his mind to ask Mista directly the next day - or to at least find Giorno, who was always very good at reading people and may have noticed some change in Mista's condition recently that he himself had missed.

Mista didn't show his face at breakfast the next morning, but Giorno was there, dumping granola into a cup of yogurt while Bucciarati finished his toast.

"What's up with Mista?" he asked, trying to be nonchalant.

"Oh, he's just being a weirdo again," said Giorno. "It's really all his fault."

"But what _is_ it?"

Giorno paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, and chuckled darkly. "He figured out that the number of letters in 'Trish Una' is divisible by four."


	5. what happens in vegas

Lips hot against Fugo's, Narancia pushed him back into the closet and immediately thought better of it.

"I don't usually do things like this," he mumbled, panting.

"Me neither," said Fugo, "but I almost feel - "

"Déjà vu?" finished Narancia. "It's my fault. Remember that time we were all drunk?"

"Actually no," said Fugo with a smirk. Narancia grinned and set about reminding him, kissing him again and this time tugging at his shirt, too, because as ineffectual as it was he still wanted to just get the damn thing _off_ -

It finally fell to the floor and Fugo was up against the wall, barechested except for his tie and -

"A nipple ring?" said Narancia, tugging on it skeptically.

Fugo flushed a little redder. "Er...remember that time we were all drunk?"


	6. PMS spells 'Trish'

Giorno went out to check the mail, usually, and today was no different. As he walked out to the box, he began to wonder why he hadn't seen Narancia all day. He was supposed to go out and run some errands...

Walking out for the mail, Giorno found him, embedded up to his knees in the walkway that led up to the doorway, with a bag of groceries spilled all over and with an utterly miserable look on his face.

"What happened to _you_?" Giorno asked.

Narancia let out a pathetic whimper and gestured to a carton some distance off to his right. "Apparently, Trish wanted _chocolate_ ice cream."


	7. pardon my French

The nurse tottered in, carrying the pen and paper that Kakyoin had asked for. He was supposed to be resting his eyes at all times, but she liked him, and she didn't think it would hurt to just let him write a letter to that silly French friend of his. As long as she sat there with him, making sure he didn't strain too much and keeping a look-out for other, less lenient staff members. She herself had pulled out her knitting.

"Nurse?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you have a different pen? This one's running out."

She smiled and passed him another from her bag. He kept writing; she kept knit-one-perl-two-ing.

"Nurse?" he said again, after a minute.

"Yes, Kakyoin?"

"How much postage will this be?"

"Oh, I believe the Speedwagon Foundation ought to take care of it." He nodded and went back to his letter.

She was almost done with the next row in her scarf when she interrupted again.

"Nurse?"

"What is it now?"

"What's the French for 'blowjob'?"


	8. Josephs on a plane

Joseph and Abdul were maneuvering their way through the airport and everything was going quite well until without warning, the fortune-teller was grabbed by two men in security uniforms, hats pulled down low over their faces.

"Come with us, sir," said the larger of the two in an odd voice. Abdul looked a little nervous but was ready to comply.

"We'll miss our connecting flight!" cried Joseph, but Abdul seemed okay.

"You go on ahead without me, Mr. Joestar," he told him.

"This is racial profiling! You can't do this!"

"It's an authorized random check, sir," said the beefy guard. "We'll put him on another flight as soon as possible once we clear him for safety."

Joseph was outraged, but Abdul insisted, "I'll be _fine_." Reluctantly, the older man continued through to his plane.

Once he was out of sight, Jotaro and Polnareff removed their disguises and Abdul breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you _so _much," he told them. "I swear, the real terrorist is Joseph!"


	9. do not want

"Wouldn't it be great to have Giorno as your boyfriend?" Narancia blurted, randomly.

"I wouldn't know," Mista grumbled, giving him an odd look.

"Just think, though!" the younger boy continued. "He wouldn't need to buy you flowers – he could make a whole field of them by himself! Or he could make a butterfly fly right up to you, and land on your nose, or something. His stand is almost – _romantic._"

Giorno walked in just then, passing through to the kitchen, and Narancia quickly shut up.

"Shame he's asexual," he mentioned after the blond was gone.

"I wouldn't know," said Mista again.

"Well then who was it you walked in on masturbating that one time?"


	10. when in Rome

Okuyasu was dragging him off to Tonio's restaurant again. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Italian food, but if they kept going out to eat without anyone else tagging along, people might think they were _dating. _And that would just be queer.

As they walked in, Josuke saw Tonio out on the floor, speaking rapidly to a shorter boy in thick, immaculate Italian. The language was fascinating, but Josuke was hungry, so he and Okuyasu sat down at a table. Upon sensing their presence, the odd boy retreated to a table in the far back corner, falling silent as Tonio assessed Josuke and Okuyasu's orders and then darted back into the kitchen to begin cooking. He left them some sparkling water and generic rolls while they waited.

No sooner had he left them than in strode a shady character with reflective sunglasses and a beat-up denim jacket. Both Josuke and Okuyasu had rolls to their lips when he shouted, "Everyone freeze! It's a stickup!" His left pocket stuck out, suggesting a weapon, but before their eyes a stand hovered into view behind the robber's head.

Before Josuke could swallow, and free his mouth to call his own stand, the scrawny blond kid in the corner had leapt up and let out an indeterminable cry, and was sprinting over to the thug. In tandem, the boy and – the boy and his _stand_! – sent a barrage of punches to the man's protruding stomach, and then to his head, with something that sounded sort of like "mudah!"

He dropped to the floor. Okuyasu managed to swallow.

"Sorry," said the blond, "who are you?"


	11. afraid to come out of the locker

Mista, last to emerge from the changing room, nearly dropped his towel as he burst into laughter at the sight of his Passione cohorts.

"Christ, am I the only one of us all with halfway normal tan lines?"

Narancia's chest and shoulders were covered with criss-crossing lines two shades paler. Bucciarati's chest was a mess of squiggles framed by a neat V, and Abbachio had a row of thin Xs running straight down his sternum. Giorno, his unburnt foreign skin almost deathly pale compared to the others, had gotten off a little easier with just a faint heart-shape splayed on his torso.

But Fugo was the worst.

"It's like a Dalmatian – no, a mushroom!" Mista howled, still laughing. "It's like you've been wearing Swiss cheese!"

The other five tackled him into the pool.


	12. amoare

"WHENNNN THAAAA moon hits your eye like a big pizza-pie that's – "

"Shut _up_, Joseph!"


End file.
